


A Little R & R

by StarsGarters



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Gang Rape, Gaslighting, Gen, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Pegging, Strap-Ons, spider gag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4634421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsGarters/pseuds/StarsGarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grant Ward fucks up a mission. Agent Garrett thinks he needs a little R & R. </p><p>PURE AWFUL UNAPOLOGETIC TRASH</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little R & R

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [From Beneath You, It Devours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4615806) by [mathildia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia). 



Where had it all gone wrong?

Grant Ward looked at his hands and ran the mission over and over in his head. Bad intel. That was the only cause he could come up with. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him. He looked up at Agent John Garrett and said, "Bad intel." And he knew from the disappointment on his mentor's face, that that wasn't the correct answer. "Really. It was. I-- I can't think of any other reason." He didn't like the little whine in his voice, but he couldn't stop it either.

Agent Garrett patted Ward on the shoulder, "I get it kid. I do." He leaned back against the wall. "It's been rough these last few weeks, hasn't it?" Ward rubbed his thumb over the blood stains under his fingernails. "Sadly, mistakes like that can cost us valuable men," Garrett's sigh cut like a shiv to Ward's ribs, "They think he'll be able to walk again. Maybe."

"He shouldn't have been there." Ward chewed on his lip, "There was no reason that he should have been there. There was a mistake." And it wasn't mine. He didn't say that aloud because he wasn't stupid.

"Such is life." Garrett smiled at him. "Look kiddo. You look like you need a break. Turns out I've got something special lined up tonight." He shrugged, "I'd go, but man my back is killing me. Ever heard of the Party?" Garrett leered, "Legendary fun. Only for the really special, the elite."

"But-- but I fucked up." Ward knitted his brows, "Why would you do that for me?"

"Why did I rescue you? Why do I always have your back?" Agent Garrett leaned over and ruffled Ward's hair, he leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

"Cause I believe in you, sport. So clean yourself up and have a damn good time." Garrett laughed, "A little R&R, that's what you need."

Ward nodded. "Thanks." That actually sounded really good. Just what he needed to wash away the blood on his hands. He clenched his fist. "I won't disappoint you."

Garrett lit a cigarette and took a drag. "I'm sure you won't son. I'm sure you won't."

 

* * *

 

Ward looked at the time. He was in the right place. He looked over the concrete floor with inset drains, the customizable metal bench bolted to the floor with heavy duty chained manacles on gears and the rack of-- toys. This was where the Party was, but it didn't look like any fun for the guest of honor. He checked the ceiling. Surveillance cameras, of course. Had to be for some fuck's personal pleasure, everyone who belonged to HYDRA was in too deep to be swayed with simple blackmail.

Ward's dick twitched as he ran his fingers over the diamond-embossed steel plate of the bench. He whistled under his breath; they'd almost cleaned up all the blood from the last time. Almost. Jesus Christ, he was gonna have fun tonight. His lips stretched over his teeth in a predatory grin. He was going to be a part of the team. The real power behind HYDRA. It was about time. He was ready. He was.

He leaned up against the wall and waited for the other participants and the Guest of Honor. He'd seen pictures of the Asset before, blurry ones and just getting to see the legendary assassin in person was an honor. He was a part of the inner circle now. He tapped his finger on his bicep in anticipation. He carefully posed so that he didn't look too casual, too bored or too eager.

The door opened and two men strode in. The last time Ward had seen them was after an obliteration mission. The air had been heavy with smoke and sparks. Agent Garrett had pointed out these two men striding through the billows, covered in blood and dirt: "That's Brock Rumlow and that's Jack Rollins. They're Alpha squad. _Legendary_. Someday, someday my boy you're gonna be just like them. They get the job done. Whatever. It. Takes. You hear me?"

Ward had nodded and watched them stalk through the battlefield, utter professionals. He wanted to hear Garrett talk about him that way, tinged with awe, he craved it more than air in his lungs.

They stared at him and shut the door behind them. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for inviting me to the gangbang?  So he waited. The tall one, Rollins, worried a matchstick between his lips and Rumlow extended his hand to Ward.

"Are you Grant Ward?" Rumlow's voice was deep and gravelly and Ward nodded as he took Rumlow's hand, determined to make a good impression with a firm grip. Rumlow didn't let go of his hand, he held it in his grasp and squinted at Ward, looking him over. "Huh. What do you think, Rollins?"

The taller man took the matchstick out of his lips and smirked. "I think he's prettier than you are."

"Bitch. You've always liked twinks. That's not going to last for much longer though, is it?" And he lashed out with a knee to Ward's solar plexus. The breath whooshed out of Ward and he staggered. "And where are those other assholes?" Rumlow took Ward down with two quick jabs and Ward kicked out in desperation, floundered right into Rollins' massive arms. "Did you give them the right time?"

Rollins shrugged as he put Ward on the metal table, face down and latched a manacle around his wrist. Ward struggled to break free and Rollins backhanded him. Ward's ears rang from the blow. "I dunno." He fastened the other manacle and then dodged Ward's frantic kick. "Go ahead sweetheart, fight all you like." He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of Ward's inner thigh. "It just makes you tighter."

Ward gasped for breath. "What the fuck are you doing?"

And a shiver ran down his spine as Rollins laughed at him. He slapped Ward on the ass and rolled his eyes. "He doesn't know. He really doesn't know."

Rumlow was looking at his phone and not really paying attention.

"What the fuck are they teaching the new recruits?" Rollins leaned down close and said with hot breath on Ward's ear, "You fucked up, kid. It wasn't the first time, but it will be the last time. We're going to make sure of that. You're the Guest of Honor at the HYDRA trash party." He licked up the side of Ward's face, "Gotta say, I'm gonna enjoy this. Put your phone away and get over here." Rollins griped. "It's rude."

Rumlow put his phone in his pocket and unsheathed his boot knife. "See, this is the sort of shit that can't happen in the field. You have to be punctual. You have to be on fucking point. And you, you were not." Rumlow wound his fingers in Ward's hair and jerked his head up. "This is for your own good." Ward spat in in Rumlow's face. A slow, easy smile spread over Rumlow's lips. "Looks like he didn't get the memo, Jack. He wants to play."

"Good." Rollins licked the spit from Rumlow's face and kissed him with a sloppy tongue. Ward cringed away from them and instantly regretted showing that weakness.

"I'm not a fucking fag, like you two." Ward blustered and tested the restraints.

"We're not homos." Rumlow said rather unconvincingly with Rollins' arm slung possessively over his shoulders. "We're teammates. We've got each other's backs. There's always someone on our six. Unlike you. How many friends do you have here, kid?" Rumlow looked around the empty room and shook his head with a smirk. "Not seeing many. You might want to try to make some new friends here, show us that you're serious about belonging."

"Fuck you!" Ward spat and struggled in a panic.

Rumlow sighed, "You know, I like it when we get the stupid ones. No matter what it says on their test scores, they're still so fucking stupid." He dragged his knife down the seam of Ward's t-shirt. The stitches split and parted, so did his skin. Ward winced at the pain and Rumlow's nostrils flared. "Better stay still, punk."

"Or don't." Rollins said with a shrug and he went to the rack. Ward shivered, not wanting to know what the bastard was going to pick out.

Rumlow flayed the clothing from Ward's body with quick slashes, catching the skin at tender spots and licking his lips at Ward's involuntary flinches. "I didn't do anything wrong! It was bad intel, you know that, right?" Ward pleaded. His plea fell on deaf ears, it was as if they weren't even listening to him. He tried another tack. “Garrett will…”

Rollins laughed loudly from across the room. “The only reason Garrett isn’t here is because he’s got a soft spot for you, boy. Doesn’t want to do what’s necessary.”

“He’s always complaining about that bad back of his. Garrett thinks a few months fending for yourself in the woods is what it takes to toughen you up,” Rumlow scoffed. He leaned down, close to Ward’s face, warm breath smelling of bitter coffee on Ward’s cheek. “We’re gonna teach you properly.”

“I love this one.” Rollins held up a nasty looking piece of metal and leather. “It’s perfect for little boys that haven’t learned how to stop flapping their mouths yet.” He raised his eyebrows at Rumlow and waggled them.

“I’ll, I’ll do anything you want. Just-- please. Please don’t do this. I’m a loyal soldier, I am! Please, I’m begging you.” Ward whimpered. “I can make it up to you, I can!”

“You always go for the spider gag. Pick something else for a change.” Rumlow pointed at the rack as he ignored Ward’s words, “That’s why we have the expense account for new toys. If we don’t use up the budget then it gets reappropriated and do you want to have to go begging to accounting? Hmm?”

Rollins shook his head and walked back towards Ward, the gag dangling in his huge hand. “I like the classics. So, any last words?”

“F--fuck you!” Ward stammered in panic. This was really happening. He wasn’t just going to get scared and set free. These bastards were really going to rape him to prove a point. “It was bad intel! Not my fault!”

“See, it’s too late for that love. We’re not the judge or the jury. We’re the punishment. You’ve already been found guilty. Now open up or I’ll slap you silly. And you don’t want to mess up that pretty face, do you?” Rollins forced the gag into Ward’s mouth, the steel scraped against his teeth as his mouth opened. Rollins whistled and tapped his finger on Ward’s tongue, then swirled it around in the saliva pooling there. “Damn. I do love a classic.”

“And those were some pretty shitty last words too.” Rumlow clucked his tongue. “Disappointing.”  His phone buzzed, “Huh. Westfahl gave them the wrong time. They’ll be here soon. They say, get started without us. Like we’d wait for those losers. Did you check his medical report?”

“Yup. He’s clean, for now. Looks like Garrett’s been the only one up this ass.” Rollins slapped his hand on Ward’s buttock, “Did he make sweet, tender love to you when he popped your ass-cherry?” Rumlow scrunched his face up at Rollins’ cooing. Ward gurgled.

“Yeah, if Garrett’s been up in that, I’m double-bagging.” Rumlow’s zipper was obscenely loud. “And if you want up in me after tonight, then you’re gloving up. We’re not having a repeat of the Summer of Chlamydia.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Rollins chuckled and Ward felt rough fingers dig into his thighs. The center of the bench pulled out with an ominous screech of metal on metal. “Want to get one of these for home? I could make it out of oak with a rubbed oil finish.”

“What would we do with it when it wasn’t being used? A potted plant stand? Really, you never think of the logistics of interior design.” It was if Ward wasn’t even in the room, didn’t merit inclusion as anything other than the amusement. He heard the rustle of a condom wrapper and a little part of him was grateful for that small consideration. Rollins spat once into his hand.

“Yap, yap.” Rollins pressed the blunt head of his thick cock against Ward’s asshole, “I’d tell you to relax, but whatever.” He pushed inside and Ward howled, gargling with his drool.

Rumlow rubbed his fingers in Ward’s drool and held them up. “Did you forget something?”

“What’s the point? He’ll be plenty slick with blood soon enough.”

The pain was a whole new level of awful. Ward thought he knew pain. Thought he understood it. But this, this ghastly tearing feeling, was something else. And yet - buried deep within the agony was something strangely pleasurable.

Different than when Agent Garrett took him. There wasn’t the smell of woodsy aftershave or the ever present feeling of shame deep down in his guts. He owed everything to Garrett, and yet he’d never be able to repay him. He’d never live up to that great man’s expectations. That’s why he was here. He was a failure.

Tears leaked from his eyes and those two bastards would think that he was crying because of them. Drool trickled out of his mouth and he closed his eyes. He opened them when Rumlow rubbed the tip of his dick against his nose. “Puke on me and I’ll make you eat it.” Ward didn’t doubt him. Rumlow pressed his cock into Ward’s mouth and put his hands on the back of Ward’s head. He shoved in, all the way to the back of Ward’s throat until Ward shook with lack of air. He pulled out and smiled, “Aw. That’s a good boy. More of challenge than withered old geezer dick, isn’t it?”

Rollins stopped his thrusting for a moment and leaned over, resting his elbows on the small of Ward’s back. “You know, I don’t think I took the chicken out of the freezer.”

Rumlow thrust his hips and choked Ward on his cock again. “Really? I asked you to do one thing.” He shook his head and looked down at Ward, “It’s going to be really hard to make dinner with frozen fucking chicken. Don’t you think?” Ward blinked and hazarded a tiny nod. “See? Even the fuckboy thinks that you dropped the ball.”

Rollins slammed back into Ward, hard enough to bruise the skin of his ass and he gagged around Rumlow’s cock. “The fuckboy should mind his own business. In fact, he wouldn’t even be the entertainment if he bothered to follow orders. But maybe he likes this? Go on, tell me you love it and I’ll stop.”

Ward groaned and gurgled but Rollins shrugged. “Can’t understand you with your mouth full sweetheart.” He wanted to scream that he hated it, hated them, but Rumlow’s cock was pressing on the back of his throat again. And to his utter shame, he was hard. Painfully so.

“So what’s the rule about coming during the punishment, Brock?” Rollins taunted, “Come on, you know better than anybody.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jack.” Rumlow thrust over and over again into Ward’s mouth until he came with a wet gush against the back of his throat. Rumlow sighed and patted Ward’s aching cheeks, “The rule is if you come during this, then we let you go.” He cleaned himself up with some of Ward’s shredded shirt. “But, that also makes you our bitch for the rest of your life.”

“Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Rollins chuckled, “Well tough shit.” He groaned and shuddered against Ward’s ass, then stripped off the blood-smeared condom and tossed it into a bin. “I guess we can get out some of the more fun toys until the losers get here. Ever heard of a Wartenburg wheel, sweetheart?” The sight of Rollins’ red stained fingers wrapped around the shiny spiked spur on a handle made Ward’s stomach clench.

The door opened and a crowd of people entered. All wearing STRIKE t-shirts. Two of the women were carrying folding chairs. One of the men started giggling and apologized when he caught an elbow in the ribs. “Grant Ward, meet STRIKE Team Alpha.” Rumlow introduced them as if there was nothing odd about a bound man bleeding from his asshole with a spider gag in his mouth. Maybe, for them, there really wasn’t.

“Took you long enough, Mercer.” Rollins scolded.

“Sorry. Westfahl gave us the wrong time. And then we had to stop to get the accessories.” The blonde rolled her eyes in exasperation. “And the snacks for Murphy.”

“I have to keep up my blood sugar. I’m doing a cleanse.” A very young man with floppy dark hair chimed in. “Oh, the wheel.” He reached out with a fascinated grin and took the device. “This is used to test reflexes on people who have had injuries that could cause paralysis.” He unlaced Ward’s boot deftly and ran the spiked wheel up the inner sole of Ward’s foot. Ward shook with the intense sensations that ran up his legs. He thrashed wildly to get away from the pin pricks and the kid’s giggles of delight made it so much worse. “See! You’re not paralysed! Cool, right?”

Westfahl opened a bag of Cheetos and licked his fingers. “How many of these do you think could fit up his ass?” He sat in a lawn chair and stared at Ward, occasionally flicking a Cheeto at Ward’s gaping mouth.

The women started petting his hair and murmuring about how pretty Ward was. One of them clapped her hands in glee and said, “The fucking machine, Anders!”

And the other woman high-fived her over Ward’s head. “With the purple glitter dragon dildo!” They bustled over to the rack and chattered animatedly while waving huge rubber cocks in a mock sword-fight. Those couldn’t possibly fit in him. There was no earthly way.

Ward closed his eyes and tried to meditate, tried to set himself apart from the things going on around him. Especially the things that were going to go in him. The giggling and chatter buzzed in his head and he admitted it to himself, he was terrified of these unpredictable strangers.

“Did you like it better when it was just the three of us?” Rumlow whispered in Ward’s ear. “Just a couple of honest cocks in you without any of this--” He waved his hand dismissively, “Pageantry.” Ward nodded and Rumlow stroked his hand down the side of Ward’s throat. “Come on pretty boy. Give in. Come for me and this will all be over. We’re not so bad, we’re kinder than these freaks, right?” Rumlow plucked at the straps holding the gag in place. “One chance, boy.”

Ward moaned in relief as the spider gag’s tension released and he swallowed. Rumlow raised an eyebrow and Ward sobbed out, “Please sir. I will do anything. Please make me come, I will be your little bitch, please sir!”

“Prove it.” Rumlow clicked the catches on the manacles on Ward’s wrists. Rollins did the same for his ankles. Ward rolled off the table and fell heavily to the floor. He panted and did the only thing he could do. He adapted, became the person they wanted him to be.

Garrett had always told him that as soon as he could leave his ego behind and serve the cause purely out of love and devotion, then he’d be ready. HYDRA wanted him to submit and prove his loyalty after that clusterfuck of a mission? Fine, he could play that game.

But it still wasn’t his fault. He shoved that treasonous thought deep down and crawled on the concrete floor towards Rumlow. He knelt down and kissed the tip of Rumlow’s polished boot. Then he prostrated himself on the floor and worshiped the leather with his tongue. This wasn’t him. This was another mission. And he wasn’t going to fail this time.

The silence in the room told him that he’d made an impression. Then Westfahl spoke up, “I still think I could get like twenty Cheetos in his ass.”

Rumlow groaned, “Get out. Just get out.” He pointed at the door and Westfahl shrugged as he left. “Never invite him again. You hear me Murphy? I don’t care if you were carpooling, take a fucking cab.”

Rollins walked over and pulled Ward up by his hair. Ward kept his gaze lowered and that seemed to please Rollins. “Good boy. You’re learning, aren’t you? Can’t say that I didn’t enjoy that tight little ass of yours. Let’s see if you really mean it. Choose someone else and let’s see what kind of sweet little fucktoy you are.”   

Ward looked at his choices and pointed at the dark haired woman, Anders, who sat in a folding chair. She looked a little softer in the face than the blonde. Ward was so very tired of dicks. Women were easier to manipulate, easier to control. Anders pumped her fist and said, “In your face, Mercer!” Ward knelt down at her feet and waited.

“Oh come on baby, I want you to bounce on my dick.” Ward’s brows knit and he watched her strap on a thick purple spiral twisted dildo. “It’s so pretty, just like you Peaches.” She sat down on an armless folding chair and pointed at the phallus jutting from her crotch, “It’s not going to suck itself.”

Ward crawled over to her, his bruised and bloodied ass on display for everyone to see and he gave the dildo a tentative lick. The thought occurred to him that if this was going in his ass, then he better get to work getting it as slick as possible. It was just a piece of plastic. Ward closed his eyes and slathered the dildo with his tongue. He licked and sucked with gusto, drooling slobber like a salivating dog, the thick, bitter taste of Rumlow’s semen in his mouth the whole time, reminding him of just how bad this could get if he didn’t do exactly what they wanted. “Good boy.” Anders said with approval and she caressed his hair tenderly. So easy to manipulate. He gagged himself on her plastic dong to really sell his performance.

“Up!” She patted him on the arm. “Reverse cowgirl, Peaches.” Ward stood up and slowly impaled himself upon the thick dildo, his ass stretched and burning. He hoped his blood stained her clothing. It was petty, but all he had. He shuddered like a winded horse as he filled himself up and the curve of the dildo pressed against his prostate.

“Bounce on me bitch.” Anders hissed and raked her sharp nails down his sweaty back. “That’s right, show everyone what a dirty little slut you are. How’s that little hole of yours? Don’t worry, mama’s going to take care of you, make you feel so good.” Ward flushed at her words and the wounds on his back stung. He kept his eyes tightly closed and used his thighs to raise and lower himself. He could almost pretend that he was somewhere else, somewhere safe. It almost felt okay, maybe a little more than okay.

“Well look at that.” Rollins sneered, “Looks like the fuckboy likes to put on a show. You getting this?”

Rumlow said, “Yep.” Ward opened his eyes and saw that Rumlow was recording him on his phone. “Landscape, not portrait. I’m not a fucking amateur.” Why would he record on his phone when there were already cameras? Oh shit. For personal use, of course. They wanted a show? He could give them a show. Ward let out a groan and rubbed his hand down his chest.

Mercer dangled weighted nipple clamps from her fingers and Anders pulled him down by his hips, the stretch from the base of the thick dildo burned. “There we go, pretty boy.” She attached them to his sensitive flesh and ran her fingernails down his skin, leaving red welts. “You should have picked me, we’d have had so much fun.” She backhanded Ward in the face. Blood welled up in his mouth and he wanted to spit it on her, but instead he let his jaw drop. Red drool dripped from his lips and ran down his chest, pooled in his pubic hair. “Nice.” She said and took a step back with an appreciative smirk on her face.

Anders patted his leg, “Back to work, Peaches!” Bouncing up and down on her lap was so much worse with the weighted nipple clamps painfully dragging and slapping on his chest. His hard cock flopped around and whacked against his stomach. “Aww. You want a hand with that? Better ask nicely.”

“Please please please. I need-- I need you to touch my cock. Please make me come!” Ward begged with a sickening whine. The line between pretending to be desperate and the hot, swollen tension in the pit of his belly blurred. He needed to come, he needed it now.

“Do it yourself.” Anders laughed. “I’m not getting my hands dirty with your filth, you nasty thing.” Ward wrapped his fingers around his cock, red faced with shame and arousal. Rollins stepped forward and slapped his fingers away, Ward winced.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Rollins jammed his thick fingers inside Ward’s mouth, rubbed the bloody spit all over Ward’s face until it glistened. “You remind me of someone when you’re like this, all frustrated and whining.” Rollins glanced over at Rumlow, who drew his finger across his throat in warning. “I’ll give you three strokes and if you don’t come by the third one, then I’m giving you to Murphy and his creepy collection of metal rods that he likes to stick up your dick.” Murphy waved with a merry little smile over Rollins’ shoulder.

Rollins worried the head of Ward’s cock, pressed the tip of his thumb into the oozing slit and rolled it about in his fingers. He gripped it and stroked down to the base of Ward’s shaft, Ward’s hips bucked and he let out a strangled scream. “Oh god!”

“That’s one.” Rollins said in his ear. He repeated the action and Ward shook like a leaf from the overstimulation. “That’s two.” Rollins smelled like cigarettes and gun oil. “Come for me, pretty boy.” And Ward’s vision whited out as he spattered Rollins’ fist with his semen. Rollins worked him through the shivers and gasping aftermath. “See, you can follow orders after all.”

Murphy started to applaud. Rollins kissed him and threw a thumbs up to Rumlow’s camera. Ward fought the urge to puke. “Oh yeah, this shit is going on Youtube.”

Anders pushed him off her lap, the fat purple cock slid out of him with a squelch. Ward lay on the floor panting, there wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t ache. Rumlow squatted down and peeled back his eyelids. “Eh. You’ll be fine, champ. You’re made for this.” He patted Ward’s cheek. “Don’t fuck up again, pretty boy. Unless, you know, you want to. We'll have some more fun then.” He stood up and announced, “Okay, everyone out. I’m starving. And Rollins is paying.”

“Every day of my life.” Rollins said and Rumlow elbowed him in the ribs. “Bitch.” They left Ward on the ground, naked and bleeding. He curled up and gratefully passed out on the concrete.

* * *

 

 

“Oh son.” Agent Garrett’s voice. Must have been a hallucination. “Wake up, son.” Ward cracked his crusty eyelids and he wasn’t dreaming. Garrett daubed at his split lip, helped him to his feet. His mentor’s eyes swam with pity and sadness. That was worse than the whole damn rape. Ward had disappointed the one good man in his life. Tears spilled down Ward’s face.

“I-- I tried to protect you. I’m so sorry. You’ve got to be on point. If you’re not? I can’t protect you, not from them.” Ward clung to Garrett and choked back a sob. Garrett patted his shoulder. “I know you can do this. I have faith in you. Now, get dressed and shake it off.”

Ward squared his shoulders and stood up. “I will not fail you again, sir.”

Garrett lit a cigarette and took a drag. "I'm sure you won't son.” Ward didn’t see Garrett’s fleeting smile as he looked at the blood-stained metal table. “I'm sure you won't."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you've gotten this far, then you should be ashamed of yourself. ;)


End file.
